


"Stay With Me"

by Merkwerkee



Series: Being Bruno Hamilton [20]
Category: Masters of the Metaverse
Genre: Angst, Whumptober 2019, during his time in the Vietnam War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:22:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22855426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merkwerkee/pseuds/Merkwerkee
Summary: Sometimes the worst thing to do is absolutely nothing
Series: Being Bruno Hamilton [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1643020





	"Stay With Me"

Bruno was pretty sure this was what Hell felt like.

It had been more than thirty tortuous hours since he’d moved into place. He hadn’t made the plan, and had in fact been silently against the plan the entire time, but orders were orders. The tiny, hidden blind in the canopy of a massive tree had a great view, which put it well up on the last six places he’d been imprisoned - but it was a surer jail than any solitary confinement he’d been placed in. His orders were to maintain and defend the blind, and use the binoculars, radio equipment, and some experimental stuff from the geeks in R&D concealed within it to co-ordinate a multi-pronged attack on the base below.

It was torture.

Bruno was about 87% certain that this was against the Geneva Convention, but Jaxun had been adamant that someone had to be up in the blind at all times, and when it came time to choose who would man which position Bruno had literally drawn the short straw. Tunstall and Weber were now in defensive positions less than thirty meters from the tree Bruno himself was holed up in. 

When he’d talked to Graves about it - the guy was laid up with a broken ankle and had been benched for the mission - Graves had thought that it was Lexington, more than Jaxun, who was behind the orders; the guy was obsessed with the newest and shiniest tech.

It wasn’t the waiting, so much; Bruno was used to waiting. Waiting for the right moment to strike, waiting for enemies to pass, waiting for the perfect shot - Graves often said Bruno had the patience God gave oysters, to sit still for as long as he did. Usually in more unflattering terms, but then Graves was an asshole. Still, Bruno was fine with waiting; he was even fine with the radio co-ordination - he’d done it before, though not often. It was the part of his orders that explicitly forbade him from leaving the blind to back up the other teams that had him champing at the metaphorical bit.

In the event that everything went to shit, Bruno was ordered to pack up the equipment, fire the blind, and bug out to the rally point nearly twenty miles away.

Which was probably why they had a soldier in the blind and not a tech; equipment you could pick up and stuff in a bag to carry with you. When you tried to do that to a technician they got _unbelievably_ whiny.

A burst of static interrupted his thoughts, and Bruno poked the machine in front of him like the tech monkeys had shown him how to back at the base. The static warbled, garbled, and then steadied into the message.

_“Hammer, this is Chainsaw. Team in position, over.”_

Bruno poked another button.

“Chainsaw, this is Hammer. Confirmed in position, awaiting confirmations others. Over.”

_“Confirmed, Hammer. Awaiting your signal. Over and out.”_

Bruno reached over and pushed another button, the static fading as he resettled himself. One down, four to go; the others were slated to be in place within the next thirty minutes, and the mission would commence once Bruno gave the final confirmation.

The radio crackled again.

_“Hammer, this is Wrench. Team is set in position, over.”_

“Wrench, this is Hammer. Confirming your position, awaiting confirmations others. Over.”

_“Roger that, Hammer, we await your signal. Over and out.”_

Two teams in position, three teams to go. Bruno itched for a sniper rifle, even though he was at the very extreme limits of range; instead he had his assault rifle, two pistols, and a surprising number of grenades. None of them had been used, the blind functioning as intended and leaving Bruno nearly invisible high above the ground.

He might have felt better if someone had tried something.

_“Hammer, this is Shovel. We’re in position, over.”_

“Shovel, this is Hammer. Position confirmed, awaiting confirmations from others. Over.”

_“Copy that, Hammer. Just give the word. Over and out.”_

More than half the teams were in position. Bruno puffed a slow breath out, forcibly slowing his heart rate. Now wasn’t the time.

_“Hammer, this is Pliers. Team has reached initial objective, awaiting green light. Over.”_

“Pliers, this is Hammer. Team confirmed, awaiting other confirmation for start. Over.”

_“Acknowledged, Hammer. Over and out.”_

Bruno clicked the equipment and shook his head. One more team to go, with less than five minutes on the thirty-minute window they had to give the signal. With the majority checked in the mission would go ahead whether or not the last team was in position, but Bruno disliked the thought of starting out with less than the plan called for, especially given his already-limited capacity to assist.

There was one minute left when another burst of static came through the equipment.

_“Uh, Hammer, this is Pri- Drill. This is Drill. Had some trouble on our way in, lost one and two more lightly injured. Uh, Over.”_

Bruno massaged the bridge of his nose gently. Wonderful. Hopefully the kid knew more about the mission than he did about radio protocol.

“Drill, this is Hammer. You are confirmed in position, wait one for final confirmation. Over.”

_“Yes. Uh, roger that Hammer. Over. Huh? Oh, over and out.”_

Bruno clicked off the radio and gave himself ten seconds to re-center and make a hasty note on the pad of paper in front of him. If the kid was going to be leading the squad, he should at least know the radio protocol - even if this equipment wasn’t exactly standard issue.

When that time ran out, he reached out and pushed a very specific series of buttons. The equipment warbled alarmingly before settling down to a more familiar static hiss, and Bruno gave it the evil eye before clicking on his mic. “All teams confirmed in position, this mission is a go. Over.”

_“Final confirmation received. Moving out. Over.”_

_“Roger that; team is moving out. Over.”_

_“I copy; team proceeding to first objective. Over.”_

_“Acknowledged. Pliers en route. Over.”_

_“We’re heading out. Over.”_

Praying he didn’t screw this up, Bruno reached over and clicked on the equipment he’d spent about three hours being taught to use by impatient men in white coats - an experience he didn’t care to repeat, as it was somehow simultaneously less work and more stressful than boot camp. At least in boot camp the instructions were clear, and if you didn’t hear something the first time by God you’d hear it at a much louder volume the second; the scientists seemed to delight in mumbling words and instructions and were impatiently indifferent teachers at best.

Still, their exertions and Bruno’s were rewarded as several small screens popped to life with blinking markers on them. Each team had a marker, and part of the objective was to plant the marker transponders in outbound shipments before blowing the stockpile. Apparently these were a new design, supposedly much harder to detect but that projected at much longer distances than their predecessors; both Jaxun and Lexington had been weirdly fascinated with the tech, but that was their business and Bruno didn’t need to understand how it worked, only what he was supposed to do with it.

The radios, too, were experimental - some kind of encryption to them that made them untraceable over shorter distances - and harder but not impossible over long ones - and the signals un-crack-able. Bruno held the very quiet opinion that people also said the Titanic was unsinkable, but worrying it was also not his job. Though he wouldn’t mind it too much if he was traced, it would give him an excuse to put boots on the ground.

“All teams, confirm target locations. Over.”

_“Hammer, this is Chainsaw. First objective confirmed in large storage barn in the south-west quadrant; entry point has yellow stripes on the door, on north face of building. Over.”_

“All teams, first objective in storage barn, south-west quadrant. Chainsaw confirmed for yellow-striped northern door. Over.”

_“Shovel confirms. Over.”_

_“Wrench confirms, moving in. Over.”_

_“Pliers confirms, over.”_

_“Yes sir, moving in. Over.”_

Bruno pinched his nose. Whoever had ended up in charge of Drill was going to be the death of him.

_“Hammer, Wrench. Contact, hostile squad, eliminated quietly, no friendly casualties. Over.”_

Bruno ruthlessly suppressed the impulse to fidget with his gun - it would do no good here. “Confirmed, Wrench. Continue as planned. Over.”

_“Hammer, Pliers. First objective completed. Over.”_

Bruno glanced at the small screens and saw one of the markers had ceased moving, while the other four still drew small squiggles on the screens. “Confirmed, Pliers. Proceed to second objective. Over.”

One by one the teams reported in success at the first objective; one by one the markers on the screens ceased their movement and when the last one - Drill, naturally - had stopped, Bruno leaned over and turned that machine off before beginning to stow it away. It would no longer be useful for the current mission, and whatever happened it would be more beneficial to have it stowed and ready to go than simply sitting there like a large metal-and-plastic brick. The geek squad had given Bruno a special harness for carrying the stuff - one “scientifically proven to reduce jostling and more evenly distribute weight as to prevent early onset exhaustion” - and it was into that Bruno put the device.

In the meanwhile, the teams had been giving running updates as to their status - entrances breached, enemies avoided or disposed of, and so on - when a burst of gunfire chattered loudly over the speakers.

_“Hammer, Shovel! Hot contact, large enemy presence Northwest corridor by outer wall of warehouse! Sixteen hostiles, one casualty, currently engaging! Over!”_

“All teams, mission is now hot. Engage at will, prioritize second objective over engagement. Over.”

A wave of acknowledgements followed, and Bruno settled down to listen and respond with a grim tension building in his shoulders.

First to stop acknowledging was Shovel, pinned in the north-west section by an increasing amount of enemy forces. They’d only partially achieved their objective by the time their channel went dead, and Bruno directed Wrench to expand their parameters to cover the gap; Jaxun wanted nothing left of any of the warehouses and what he wanted, he got.

Next was Pliers; they’d achieved their objective and were on their way out when something exploded. Several long seconds of screaming had been cut off by a second explosion that killed the line and, Bruno could only hope morbidly, whoever had been the one screaming.

Chainsaw and Wrench went together; the two squads had joined up in the overlap section that had once been part of Shovel’s parameters and had pushed to try and join up with Pliers. Whatever had exploded had also collapsed several sections of hallway, and it was up against one of those newly-constructed walls that both groups had been set upon by almost thirty hostiles. Pinned with only the bare minimum of cover offered by the angle of the hallway, they hadn’t lasted long. Their transmission lasted long enough that Bruno could hear discussions in Cantonese before a heavy **CRACK** cut the transmission off.

In the end, the only one left was Drill.

_“Hammer, Drill, finished secondary objective, going to rally with other squads at point. Over.”_

Bruno pried his fingers from where they’d been clutching his rifle and pressed the broadcast button.

“Negative, Drill. Proceed to exit ASAP. Over.”

There were several long seconds of silence.

_“Ain’t nobody left but me is there, Hammer. Over.”_

Bruno swallowed over a dry throat.

“Affirmative, Drill. Over.”

Several more seconds of silence seemed to take at once forever and no time at all.

_“Stay with me on the frequency, Hammer? Over.”_

Bruno nodded, though the motion couldn’t possibly carry over even this kind of cutting-edge equipment.

“Affirmative, Drill. Over.”

It didn’t take long. 

Bruno revised his earlier opinion; Hell didn’t _feel_ like this. Hell _was_ this.

Damn it all.


End file.
